


Hell

by Dragonfruit112



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Helgen everybody, Here we go, oof
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 12:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonfruit112/pseuds/Dragonfruit112
Summary: Salyaris, being accidentally dragged into the fight between the Imperials and the Stormcloaks, is sent to Helgen as a prisoner. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah I kinda suck at summaries. Who doesn't? Anywho, yeah I'm not really sure if I'll every "technically" finish this, cause it's only really when I have an idea to write more, but I mean I have the gist of it so.. eh. Enjoy!

Salyaris’ mind was racing a mile a minute. She’d be lying if she said she wasn't terrified -- her hands were shaking and her tail tip was flicking back and forth continuously. The whites of her eyes were clear to see as she looked at the others in the cart with her. All Nords but her. 

She didn't exactly know how it all happened. One moment she was walking along the road, a sack slung over her shoulder filled to the brim with random junk she’d gotten from the old Nordic ruin she’d finished exploring and then BAM. She was getting caught up in some fight between Stormcloaks and the Imperial Army. She hadn't realized how close to the border she’d wandered, and it didn't exactly matter now. In the end, the Imperial Army had captured them all, -- not even wondering once why a Khajiit would be in leagues with the Stormcloaks, the _idiots_ \-- stripped her of everything she had except for her under clothes, and set them on a course for who knows where.

The cart hit a bump in the road and if it wasn't for the cloth they’d tied around her muzzle, Salyaris would’ve let out an uncomfortable whine. The Nord across from her looked up from the floor of the cart and their eyes met.

He sighed quietly, “I’m sorry you had to get dragged into this.”

Salyaris shrugged slightly, unable to respond. The Nord next to the one that spoke, a dirty, mousy looking man, looked up as well.

“Hey, aren't you going to apologize to me too?” He asked, scowling. He was doing his best not to show his fear but Salyaris could smell it clear as day. 

The blonde Nord snorted, “Why should I, horse thief? Unlike you, she’s done nothing wrong.” Salyaris couldn't help the low grumble that sounded from her throat. She didn't like when people chose favorites. Neither seemed to hear her as the mousy Nord’s face contorted in anger.

“Damn you Stormcloaks... Skyrim was fine until you came along,” He scrunched his nose as if smelling something rotten. “Empire was nice and lazy.” He continued on about something about a horse, but Salyaris had stopped listening. She turned her amber gaze to her left to watch the road -- perhaps see just where they were going. If she squinted, she could only just make out the form of a settlement in the near distance. She vaguely noticed the horse thief saying something to her but she merely flicked her ear. Not like she could respond anyway.

She only returned her gaze to the Nords when the blonde one across from her rose his voice, “Watch your tongue! You’re speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!”

She glanced over to the one in question, taking in his hunched form and muzzled mouth, just like hers. The Khajiit snorted. She knew who he was; one of the many Jarls who’d refused her and Teldryn entrance into their cities. They’d heard of his exploits across Skyrim, how he was the leader of the rebellion and enemy number one to the Thalmor roaming around. She didn't _hate_ him, per se, but she didn't like him very much either. The way he treated people who weren't Nords just rubbed her fur the wrong way. The irony that she’d be imprisoned with him wasn't lost on her.

The mousy Nord looked as if he couldn't contain his fear any longer, “Ulfric Stormcloak? Oh gods... If they’ve captured you...” His head whipped around wildly, and Salyaris’ ears flattened uncomfortably. What was he so worried about? “Where are they taking us?!”

The blonde Nord sighed, “I don't know where we’re going.. But Sovngarde awaits.”

Salyaris felt her heart stop for a split second as she stared at him. Sovngarde? But that was where Nords went when they died.. Did that mean?

_Oh gods_...

Her shaking increased and breaths began to come quick. This wasn't happening... By the Nine, Teldryn was waiting for her in Riverwood! He had no clue what was happening, if she died how long would he be waiting for her? Would he think she’d abandoned him? Left him without a word to go traipsing on another adventure by herself? Her heart broke a little at the thought. 

The blonde Nord seemed to notice her fear and sent her a pitying look. 

“General Tullius! The headsman is waiting!” A voice called, and Salyaris noticed they’d reached the settlement. She recognized it as Helgen -- she and Teldryn had passed by a few times in their travels but didn't stay longer than a night. The Khajiit took a shuddering breath as she registered what had been said. _Headsman_.

Mousy began muttering to himself, “Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh.. Divines please help me!”

Salyaris closed her eyes for a brief second. ' _Sheogorath... How’s about I take you up on that strawberry torte?_ ' She thought. In the back of her mind, she heard a huff.

_“Now that’s not very sporting. As much as I’d LOVE to have a sweet right now, I’m afraid I’m a bit busy at the moment!”_

' _I’m about to get my head chopped off, what could be so time consuming?_ '

_“Oh just a little something to do with this and that. And to be fair, you lost your head ages ago! Not really sure you ever had one, actually.”_

' _I think you mean mind. My head is nice and snug attached to my neck, always had been thank you very much._ ”

Before the Prince could reply, Salyaris was snapped back into awareness as the cart jerked to a stop.

“Why are we stopping?” Mousy gasped.

“Why do you think? End of the line,” Blondey sighed again. Salyaris swallowed the bile that rose up her throat, thinking it best not to puke when her mouth was forced shut. That wouldn't be very pretty. “Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us.”

Salyaris growled quietly as she stood. _The gods can suck my ass._

One by one they jumped from the cart, Blondey bringing up the rear. Her legs protested as she landed on the cobblestones. Blondey landed close behind her and nudged her forward with his shoulder. In return she smacked his legs with her tail but took a step forward nonetheless. 

Two soldiers stood in front of them, one with a paper in his hands and the other glaring daggers at them. The angry one shouted at them to come forward when their name was called and Salyaris couldn't help but roll her eyes. They didn't know her.

Blondey chuckled behind her, “Empire loves their damned lists.”

The one with the paper began to shout names, “Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm!”

Did they really have to say his title? Everyone knew he was a Jarl. If they were going to be that way why didn't they say his full name? Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm, leader of the Stormcloak rebellion, Bear of Markarth, Jackass of the North... Did she forget anything?

As the Jarl stepped forward, Blondey uttered a few words of respect before the next name was called.

“Ralof of Riverwood!”

Salyaris grumbled to herself as Blondey stepped forward. Ah, so his name was Ralof. Nice to know. 

“Lokir of Rorikstead!”

The mousy Nord stepped forward, his legs shaking, “N-no, I’m not a rebel! You can't do this!” The panicky pleading in his voice made Salyaris’ heart sink even more. She reached forward as he made a run for it but she missed him by just a hair.

“Halt!” The angry soldier shouted, but Lokir ignored her. “Archers!” Salyaris knew she should've looked away, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene. The archers did as they were told, and Lokir was stopped in his tracks as two arrows were lodged in his back. As he fell to the ground, dead, Salyaris let out a high pitched cry. She’d seen death before, mostly at the hands of Teldryn as they fought off bandits, but this was murder. Lokir didn't do anything -- sure, he tried to steal a horse, but she’d seen men who’d done worse get off with only a warning.

She didn't hear the soldier calling her forward until she was shoved roughly by another one behind her. She stumbled a few steps before regaining her balance, looking up at the soldier with the list with fear stricken eyes.

The man looked confused, “Who.. are you?”

_Exactly._

If she wasn't as scared as she was, she would have given the man a look. She had a gods damned muzzle on, did she really look like she could answer?

However, the man seemed to notice this and looked over to the other soldier, “Uhm, Captain? What should we do, she’s not on the list?”

Said Captain barely spared her a glance, “Oh forget the list, she goes to the block!”

The man closed his eyes briefly, “I'm sorry. We’ll make sure your remains are returned to Elsweyr.”

Salyaris’ eyes widened and she began to quickly shake her head. She tried to tell them that no, she wasn't from Elsweyr. She was from Morrowind, on a little farm in the middle of nowhere in Vvardenfell. She tried to beg them to take the cloth away from her mouth so she could tell them of the Dunmer waiting for her in the town not too far from there. That he was waiting for her, that they were supposed to meet up yesterday and be on their way to Winterhold. If anyone was to receive her remains, it would be him, not some tribe of cats that she didn't know.

Alas, her pleas went unheard. The man looked like he was about to ask for the cloth to be removed from her muzzle, and her heart leapt for joy, but at the last second he seemed to change his mind.

He motioned to the Stormcloaks who’d been gathered up nearby, “With the others, prisoner.”

Under the fear, a searing anger began to burn. She’d never been one to pay attention to politics. They didn't concern her, so she didn't care. But at this moment, she knew for a fact that she now hated the Empire with every fiber of her being. This was completely unfair, how could they be doing this? What gave them the right? She’d literally done nothing to deserve this!

She was still shaking by the time she walked over to the group of Nords in blue, not even paying attention as General Tullius talked down Ulfric. She only looked up when an unfamiliar sound echoed around them. It sounded like a very, very angry bear that was hyped up on sleeping tree sap. She wondered briefly who would even let a bear have sleeping tree sap before she remembered she was supposed to be furious and terrified.

A Stormcloak shouldered past her angrily, “For the love of Talos, shut up and let’s get this over with!” Salyaris finally had control of herself by the time the Nord kneeled by the block, and she forced herself to screw her eyes shut and pin her ears back. That still didn't stop her from hearing the sickening sound of the axe chopping through flesh -- a sound she was sure would haunt her for weeks.

She barely heard the protests shouted out by the others over the blood rushing through her ears. The anger she felt before was slowly being drowned out by her fear as she realized the gravity of the situation she was in. She was going to die. She was going to _die_.

“Next, the cat!”

Her eyes flew open and her heart leapt to her throat. The others were staring at her but she found she could barely move. Her legs were shaking too much for her to even stand still. Her breathing was coming out in ragged breaths. She didn't hear the distant roar as it repeated itself, nor the comments made on it.

A hand was placed on her shoulder, “To the block, prisoner. Nice and easy.” The hand pushed her forward, just hard enough to kick her legs back into gear and get her to stumble to the still bloody chopping block. Her heels dug into the ground as she stared at the body -- the headless body -- still lying limply in front of her. Her head started shaking back and forth, the fur on her tail standing on end as she tried to resist, but her efforts were in vain. The hand on her shoulder disappeared, only to be replaced by a foot that harshly kicked her forward. 

Salyaris stumbled over the cooling body, her head lying awkwardly on the block as the blood soaked into her fur. Her eyes looked on forlornly as the executor readied his ax. 

She’d heard rumors of what everyone’s last moments were supposed to be like. Some said your whole life flashed before your eyes while others said you saw visions of the future. Neither of those were what she saw. In that moment, Salyaris didn't see the past or the future as she watched the executor raise his ax, a strange black figure appearing in the sky behind him. Instead.... She saw hell.


	2. Part 2

“Get down!”

Ralof shouted at Salyaris as they exited the cave, the Khajiit having no time to resist as he shoved her down behind a nearby boulder. The thundering sound of wings beating overhead sent Salyaris’ mind into a frenzy as she cowered, covering her head with shaking hands as she struggled to take a breath. Ralof’s hand remained on her upper back, and it was the only thing grounding her to the real world as they hid. The dragon, demon, _thing_ slowly disappeared over the horizon, leaving the two alone in the wilderness.

The Nord stood and looked around, “Looks like it’s finally gone... Come, let’s go before it comes back. This place’ll be swarming with Imperials soon.” He began walking down the trail, only getting a few paces before he realized he wasn't being followed. He turned back to see his Khajiit companion still crouched behind the rock. “Hey, you coming?”

Salyaris was doing her best to take deep breaths, trying to keep herself from having a complete breakdown right then and there. Her fur still stood on end, her tail lashing back and forth and her heart racing a mile a minute. She’d somehow survived getting arrested, being put to death, and a dragon attack in less than half a day -- it was all a little overwhelming. 

A hand sat on her shoulder and she looked up as her Nord companion kneeled in front of her. He kept a good facade but Salyaris could see the same emotions she was feeling in his eyes. He was as close to breaking as she was.

“Riverwood’s not an hours run from here. My sister, Gerdur, and her husband run the mill there,” He stood up and held out his hand to her. “She can provide a warm meal and a safe bed.”

Salyaris stared at his outstretched hand for a moment blankly, trying to register what he’d said. Swallowing, she shakily took his offering and let him pull her to her feet. She wobbled and prepared herself to fall to her knees, but her legs decided that it was a good time as ever to start working. She shared a nod with Ralof before they both set off down the road.

Ralof did his best to fill in the silence as they walked, but Salyaris was barely paying attention. Exhaustion was finally catching up to her and was playing tag with her frayed nerves. One moment she felt like she would collapse in a heap of limp fur and the next she felt like she could sprint to the next hold. She was in a haze by the time they reached Riverwood, her body going through the motions while her mind decided to take a back seat. She would’ve kept walking through the settlement if Ralof hadn’t grabbed her shoulder and directed her towards the mill. 

There was a woman talking to them, but Salyaris couldn't understand much of what she was saying. She looked a lot like Ralof, and her mind whispered to her that this must be his sister Gerdur. The Khajiit stumbled as she was directed towards a large tree stump, practically collapsing as she sat down on it. Her whole body sagged as she finally allowed her legs to relax.

Ralof and Gerdur were talking about something, but Salyaris was too tired to follow. The edges of her vision were beginning to become cloudy the longer she stared at the ground. The longer she thought about it, the more the world decided to spin around her. The only thing keeping her from passing out was the hand on her shoulder -- periodically squeezing as if to make sure she was still there.

In the back of her foggy mind, she remembered that she was in Riverwood. As in the Riverwood she was supposed to meet Teldryn in two days ago. As in the Riverwood where he was still waiting (hopefully).

As if on cue, a familiar voice cut through the fog of her mind.

“Salyaris!”

Teldryn...

Immediately she perked up, the blurry edges of her vision receding just enough so she could look up. Across the river was a familiar figure in red and beige. His helmet was off.

Salyaris would never figure out where her sudden burst of energy came from, but burst it did. At the sight of her Dunmer companion, new life seemed to enter her limbs. She sprung up from the tree stump, the hand on her shoulder disappearing, and vaulted over the fence that separated the mill from the rest of town. Not even caring at that point, she jumped straight into the running water to stumble across. Teldryn seemed to have the same idea and jumped down from the bank to meet her halfway.

The two met in a crash of limbs, arms wrapping around each other tightly as if they were family who hadn't seen each other in years. To Salyaris, it felt like it. 

She buried her face in the Dunmer’s chest, breathing in deeply and taking in his scent. He still smelled like ash and wax. It was a scent she’d been convinced not two hours ago that she’d never smell again. Her chest tightened to the point where she felt like she couldn't breathe, but she didn't cry. Not yet.

Teldryn’s fingers tightened in the fur along the back of her neck as he sat his chin on top of her head, “By the Three, Salyaris, where have you been?” His fingers caught on the fur that was still caked with dried blood. Blood that wasn't even hers.

Salyaris swallowed the lump in her throat and choked out, “Helgen...”

The Dunmer pulled back slightly to look at her with a raised eyebrow, “Helgen? Why...?”

She knew what he was asking, but she simply shook her head and clenched her teeth. She couldn't bear to talk about it right now. Even thinking about the events that had transpired earlier was too much. Images flashed before her eyes and she squeezed them shut to try and get rid of them. Her grip tightened on Teldryn’s armor and he winced as her claws accidentally poked through the fabric. He took her hands in his and gently pried them off.

“Alright, you don't have to tell me now. I’ll figure it out eventually,” He gave her a grin, and she nodded in response.

“So,” Ralof’s voice caused them to look back towards the mill. The Nord was leaning on the fence with a smile on his face. “Your name’s Salyaris, huh?”

The Khajiit in question blinked slowly, her mind struggling to keep up. Yeah, that was her name... what of it? She suddenly realized. She never even told him her name. More so, in the panic of trying to escape Helgen she’d barely spoken one word to him.

He seemed to notice her realization and laughed, waving a hand dismissively, “Ah, don't fret over it. We had more important things to worry about!”

“And what _things_ would those be?” Teldryn inquired, wrapping one arm around Salyaris’ shoulders so she could lean on him. She really was tired.

Ralof looked at Teldryn for a moment, his eyes raking up and down as if deciding if he was trustworthy. Whatever he saw, he must’ve approved of, for he simply motioned for the duo to come back to the tree stump so he could explain. Salyaris didn't know how he managed.

When they’d all settled back on the large tree stump, Salyaris noticed another Nord had entered their little group -- a large man with splintered hands-- but she didn't know and didn't care who it was at that point. She heaved a large sigh and sagged against Teldryn to let Ralof tell the story. 

He rubbed his eyes, “I can't remember the last time I slept. Where to start? Well, the news you heard about Ulfric was true. The Imperials ambushed us near Darkwater Crossing. Like they knew exactly where we'd be! Salyaris here somehow got mixed up in all the fighting.” He looked over at the half lucid Khajiit, who only responded with a shrug. She didn't even remember. “That was... two days ago, now. We stopped at Helgen this morning, and I thought it was all over. Had us lined up for the headsman's block and ready to start chopping!”

“The cowards!” Gerdur growled, baring her teeth like an animal. The other Nord’s hands clenched angrily as he crossed them.

“They didn’t even give Ulfric a fair trial,” Ralof continued. “Treason, they said! For fighting for your own people! All of Skyrim would have seen the truth then! But then... out of nowhere... a dragon attacked.” Salyaris squeezed her eyes shut once more to try and block the onslaught of images. The headsman raising his ax, the dragon’s deafening roar, the gods damned _stars falling from the sky_. 

Everyone else seemed stunned into silence for a quick second.

Teldryn broke it, finally speaking up, “You’re joking.” He didn't sound impressed. If Salyaris wasn't so tired, she would have smacked him.

Ralof shook his head, “I can hardly believe it myself, and I was there! I saw the beast destroy Helgen -- burn it to the ground!” He winced as his words brought up memories. “And yet, as strange as it sounds, we’d be dead if not for that dragon. In the confusion we managed to slip away.”

Everything else turned into a lull after that. Salyaris only caught snippets of the conversation as her eyelids drooped, the blur starting to return around the edges of her vision. She was practically asleep by the time Teldryn shook her back into semi-awareness. Blinking slowly, her eyelids sticking to each other, she looked up at the Dunmer.

“I’ve got a room still at the inn, you can sleep there and not out here on your ass.”

If she had more energy, Salyaris would’ve stuck her tongue out at him. Alas, she simply bobbed her head in some semblance of a nod and took the hand that was offered to haul her to her feet. Feet sagging with every step, she let Teldryn drag her back to the Sleeping Giant. Both of them ignored the looks they received as they entered, and Teldryn mentioned something to the innkeeper before walking into one of the open rooms. The sight of the bed almost made Salyaris cry tears of happiness.

She belly flopped onto the bed, the piece of furniture groaning at the sudden weight, and was asleep before she took another breath.


End file.
